But right now, they’re not trying to murder the sound barrier or even humming along humbly to the tune; they are kind of just sitting there, lost in thought. They’re wringing their fingers around a loose string on the hem of their shirt that they’ve been picking at since before we left the house.
Qi’s always been the one to take them to their sessions, so I’m not sure if this is normal post-session behavior or if there’s something wrong. I don’t want to pry into their sessions, not because I’m not curious, but because I have a healthy respect for therapy and for the fact that people need professionals, since we can’t always get by with just telling their closest people everything. I also don’t want to assume they’re just spiraling after the session, so I aim for middle ground and go with a more general question about how they’re feeling, without probing for specifics.
“Everything all right?”
Qiang doesn’t move for a moment, and I’m not sure if they’re so far in their head that they don't hear me, until they release a heavy sigh and shake their head. “Not really, no.”
“Wanna talk?”
Their brow furrows, and they start worrying at their bottom lip for a moment before they ask, “Can you keep it between us?” while staring out the window.
“Everything you say to me stays between us, unless you specify otherwise,” I remind them.
It’s quiet for another moment, and it makes me think whatever this is, it’s gonna be heavy because they are struggling so hard to get it out. I’m curious, but I don’t want to push if they don’t want to talk. Before I can open my mouth to iterate that, though, they start talking.
“Grant thinks it’s time for me to tell Qi about something I’ve kept from him since all the bad shit went down with Kingston.”
“And you don’t want to,” I sum up plainly.
“It’s layered. There’s the part where it’s over and done with now, or at least the part that pertains to Qi. But there’s a deeper layer to it that once he knows, he can never unknow, and I don’t really think it’s fair to dump that on him when knowing about it won’t change anything.”
It’s kind of hard to really focus on Qiang while I’m driving, but I can see enough to know they aren't just a bit uncomfortable anymore. They’ve elevated into something deeper. There’s an almost desperate uptick in their hand fidgeting, from the quiet nervousness and slight disquiet of earlier, along with a rigidity in their spine and shallower breathing.
It's obvious that whatever this is, it's not a simple white lie. Whether Qineedsto know what this is or not, it's clear why Grant is pushing Qiang to tell him. It's heavy, and it’s weighing them down–hard.
This needs to be a deeper discussion than just idly chatting in the car. Not sure if they want to have it with me, but if they don’t and they keep fixating on it, I don't want them to spiral. Qiang's spirals have gotten better, but it doesn't mean they don't still have them sometimes, and that they aren’t still devastating every time it happens.
I know that may also be partly my personal hang-up, because I really fucking hate it when they're so clearly hurting like that. But they're facing it, and they're learning to deal with it, and that's what I have to keep reminding myself of.
Whether they talk to me or not, if they really start spiraling on it, then they probably shouldn’t be alone right now. I flip on my blinkerfor the left turn to our house and tell my phone to call Coach Stephens.
“What are you doing?” Qiang asks while the phone rings.
I just shake my head when the call clicks, signaling that Coach has answered.
“Marcus?”Coach answers in a firm, paternal voice.
“Hey Coach, I just wanted to let you know I’m gonna miss practice this evening. I’ve got a family emergency that just came up.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just something that needs to be dealt with immediately.”
Qiang is mouthing and shaking their head at me, but I’m already making the excuses, and honestly, this is why I just called instead of asking Qiang if I should. They’d have said they were fine, regardless of what they needed.
“Is Tristan with you?”Coach asks.
“No. Tristan doesn’t know about it yet. I’ll fill him in later at home.”
“Okay. If you need anything, just let me know.”
“Will do, Coach. Thank you,” I finish before closing out the call. The line is barely dropped when Qiang starts hissing at me.
“You didn’t need to do that. I didn’t even say I was gonna tell you what happened,” they huff.
“Doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. I don’t want to leave you alone right now,” I tell them honestly.
“Oh my god, Marcus! Why are you like this?” they whine exasperatingly as they flop back against their seat.
